Dagan al’Kar
Name: Dagan al’Kar Age: 25 Birthplace: Fal Dara Height: 6’1” Weight: 185 lbs Dagan is the only son of a seamstress named Shari, who raised him by herself his entire life. He knew his father as only a name, Peaten al’Kar, a dark assassin who fathered many children in his travels. Dagan was the first of these, and watched the most closely from afar. His mannerisms are in every way identical to Peaten’s. Though a man of good intentions (at least early on in life), he often lets a hot temper get the better of him. As a boy, he was always in trouble. Fights were the most common cause of his troubles, often with the wrong kind of people. When he was 17, he got into an argument with soldiers in a tavern. Feeling disrespected, Dagan challenged them. It was not long before he was arrested and put into the prison of Fal Dara keep for the third time. After talking to his mother, as he was still a boy, it was decided that he be enlisted into the army of Shienar. This was a life changing move for Dagan. The hot-headed youth was repeatedly disciplined for his actions. Slowly but surely, the boy became a man. After over two years of repeated trouble and discipline, Dagan had become a model soldier. He excelled in all aspects of battle and embraced them. It wasn’t until yet another year he was changed once again. Three years of training had finally made him battle-ready… maybe too much so. His first trip into the Blight was beautiful to him. The sounds and the smells of battle enthralled him. It was a place where his native passion and years of anger could finally come out. His first taste of blood was exhilarating. Afterwards, he was slowly returning to his old ways. When he was 21, the final piece of his downfall was set. In the back alleys of Fal Dara, he was attacked by two men. With both subdued, he gave them each a chance to leave before he arrested them, because they looked like beggars and he had pity on them. “The Great Lord take you.” One spat. “Darkfriends!” Dagan unsheathed his sword, “I should kill you now.” “Do it.” Another voice came from behind him. “They do be scum. The lowest of the low.” Dagan turned around to see a short man, with no visible weapon. His face though, was clearly one that had no fear in it, even with a sword in his face. “Are you one of them?” “One of them? If you mean a sad beggar that only half believes in the Dark… no. But if you do mean a Friend of the Dark… that I do be.” Before Dagan could raise his sword all the way, the man had his wrist pinned up to the wall with one hand, and his throat wit the other. “I do be here to help you. Do no make me kill you. Your father did trust me to look after you.” “You know my father?” Dagan struggled to get loose, but the man’s grip was like a vise. “Who are you? My father would never associate with… one of you.” “You do no have any clue who your father was. He…” “Was? You mean he’s dead?” “Aye. And I did see it with my own eyes, so it do be true. He was did be my Master, and I his Apprentice. My name do be Xander do’Rain. Peaten was the greatest swordsman I did ever see… one of the best since Jaerom himself. He died fighting one of those Witches pets, the best they have had in since Jaerom. Peaten was sent to kill only the best… only those worthy of his services. It was the best fight I did ever see.” He let go of Dagan as he reached behind him. He held a wicked looking dagger, with the blade over a foot long. It was curved at the tip and serrated at the base. It was masterfully forged, better made and probably more expensive than any sword in Fal Dara. “It was one of his. He did want you to have his things. Some may take some time to get back… his ashanderei the Warder did take back to the Witches. Forged in Thakan’dar it was. The greatest of all weapons forged since the Age of Legends.” “So why now? What do you want from me?” “Of all of his children… you did be his favorite. We did be watching you grow up whenever we could. He did see much of him in you… and you were the first.” Dagan could hardly see. He couldn’t have been more stunned if the man had punched him. “I… I couldn’t… I’m not like… that.” “He did want you to become one of us. I did see you over the years. You do be restricted by this rag tag army. Who is one man to tell another how to act… what to feel? Your father did make the same decision, as did I. You do be a man, act like it. The only rules I do follow do be my own, and those of the Great Lord, of course.” “I… I can’t. This is too much. My father… Can you teach me? To be like him?” “Only if you turn… if you truly turn, heart and soul to the Great Lord of the Dark.” Dagan sank to his knees, half involuntarily. “I pledge my soul to the Great Lord of the Dark. I will kill the man that killed him. If it takes pledging my soul and forsaking the Light… I will get revenge.” “Good.” Xander pulled Dagan to his feet. “I can no teach you… not now. The leader of this Circle will contact you soon. He will tell you more about the rules for this particular circle. As Peaten’s son, your name may become known to higher circles. But do no think your name will save you. Those that know it will respect it. But to the Eyeless, a name means nothing. Peaten al’Kar killed Myddraal, Dagan does not. To them, you are nothing but a worm. To the Chosen, you are less.” Dagan almost fell to his knees again. “The Forsaken are loose. But how? And what would they want with me?” “The Chosen may find some interest in you because you are an insider in one of their enemy’s armies. Do no think you are the only one. But I repeat, you are less than nothing to them. Even your father was nothing more than a fancy weapon in their arsenal. The son of al’Kar may have a more dangerous path through the ranks than the father did.” Category:Darkfriend Biographies Category:Congress of the Shadow Bios Category:Biographies